


It Ends, As It Was Started

by KeepYourHeadLow



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), Angst and Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-11-25 20:57:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20918510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeepYourHeadLow/pseuds/KeepYourHeadLow
Summary: After Armagedidn't Aziraphale and Crowley go back to the demons flat. Both believe the other can't love them back. They're both idiots. Angst and hijinks ensue. And far too much fluff.





	It Ends, As It Was Started

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this 2 months ago and this fandom is fast changing so some things may be behind the times. This is my first fic on here so bear with me.
> 
> Warning, there are mentions of Crowley doing the do with Jesus, so if you're offended by that, I'd find something else to read.

They were sitting on a bench. They often sat on benches, but this time was different because it was nighttime. It was nighttime on the day they had helped stop Armageddon from happening. And now they were alone, abandoned by their respective sides but only after they had so blatantly abandoned their allegiances for each other, for themselves, for the world.

“You can stay at my place. If you’d like.” Crowley offered gently, not feeling at all alone. In fact, he felt less alone with only his angel by his side then he had with hell and all its armies standing behind him.

“I... I don’t know, my dear. They-” Aziraphale began to say but even he knew it was a weak protest.

“We’ve broken all the rules already, Angel. There’s nothing more we could possibly do. They’re coming for us anyway. May as well enjoy the time we have left.” The demon said, lounging back into his seat as he miracled the bus a few streets over. It would be here soon.

“Enjoy? You don’t... You don’t really think they’d, you know, kill us, do you? She wouldn’t allow it, surely.” Aziraphale said, not sounding at all sure.

“You’ve always had more faith than the situation grants. They’re coming and even God herself can’t stop them.”

“So this truly is all the time we have left? A few days, perhaps? Six thousand years together and we can only make the most of a handful of stolen hours.” Aziraphale sighed heavily, hand inching across the bench, begging to be held.

“And what exactly do you mean by that, Angel?” Crowley asked quietly, doing everything in his power not to lunge at the one who had unwittingly held his heart for a millennia. He couldn’t ruin what they had, not now. It had never been enough for him, the occasional schemes and accidents, the longing gazes and dinners at the Ritz. He would never have enough of his angel. But he would make do, because being so close to him, even though they could never touch... It was better than all of eternity without him.

Time was a lonely beast, and it brought everything else down with it. Everyone dies alone, in the end.

Aziraphale was blushing now, but if the darkness hadn’t hidden it so well already, Crowley would not have noticed, too lost in his thoughts, “I just mean that perhaps it would be nice. To- To spend some time together. Before the end. As friends.”

Crowley looked up then, his glasses slipping down his nose as he took in the angel. A glow appeared to be emanating around him like a halo before the demon realised it was only the bus to London, coming down the road behind him.

“You’ll stay?” He asked, his voice tinged with hope. The kind of hope that got a man- or demon, killed.

“Yes. I think I will.” Aziraphale answered, turning to face the bus parked in front of them, and it was only then that Crowley realised he was still suffused with a soft, golden glow. He made no comment and instead gestured to the door which opened of its own accord, and followed the angel to saunter on board.

The angel took a seat by the window and after a moment's hesitation, Crowley sat next to him and felt their hands brush. It was the first time either of them could ever remember sitting so close. And unlike the roomy park benches, the demon couldn’t sprawl himself out across a seat and a half’s worth of space, in fact, to accommodate for the legs he had always found a little too gangly, he had one stretched across the aisle to the empty seats opposite, allowing him to lean slightly into Aziraphale’s shoulder. Again, neither said a word. If anyone could see them in the dark, they would have assumed they were a couple on their way home to the city.

Although, that’s always what people thought when the two were together. Sometimes they thought it out loud to a friend, and sometimes it was a secret thought that even they didn’t fully acknowledge because it just wasn’t an appropriate thought in some times. It had only recently become a reasonably acceptable thought, but only to a certain class of people. Everyone else was too busy worrying what that type of thought meant about themselves to be worried about the young man in the gothic attire and his ageless friend that were more likely to be seen together than apart.

And so they rode the bus in silence, and neither reached out to the hand they wanted to hold. And neither spoke when Crowley pretended to doze against his headrest, or when a bump in the road allowed his head to slide down to rest on Aziraphale’s shoulder instead. In fact, the angel did a very good impression of someone who didn’t notice what was going on around them at all. Maybe he enjoyed having his oldest friend find a sliver of peace in their impending doom. Maybe he was just too polite to ask him to move.

Though he didn’t want to, Crowley eventually sat up straight once they were a few streets away from his flat. At least, as straight as he was capable of sitting. He adjusted his glasses blearily and suppressed the yawn he pretended was necessary to keep up his sleepy charade.

“M’sorry.” He muttered quietly, as though he meant it.

“It’s fine,” Aziraphale responded just as softly as he straightened the crinkles in his jacket because he more than meant it.

“My- Our stop is coming up.” The demon told him, suppressing another fake yawn. Aziraphale simply nodded, gently accepting the piece of knowledge he already possessed. Of course, he already knew where the demons home was. He’d had to keep tabs on his enemy for years. And if a stray pot plant or bundle of wildflowers somehow made its way onto said enemies doorstep, he knew nothing about it.

It was sometime after midnight by the time the bus pulled over just outside the flat, the once enemies, now long-time friends taking their time to disembark onto the quiet street before the bus was able to trundle on as though the London stop was simply a slight detour in its route.

“After you.” The angel said, breaking Crowley out of a true reverie this time as he stood gazing at the stars.

“’F course, sorry.” He mumbled, dragging his eyes down from the heavens he’d created and walked towards the apartment. There was a door he did not have a key for that opened anyway, and then a flight of stairs before another door, this one made of black wood embossed with elaborate carvings and a snake eye-shaped peephole. This door had barely been touched before it swung open, but Crowley held the edge of it until Aziraphale had walked past him and into the flat.

“Do you wanna drink?” The demon asked, swinging the door shut again. With a click of his fingers several locks and chains clinked in to place and he felt a small amount of weight lift off his shoulders. Not that a few link chains could stop the armies of heaven and hell from barreling through his door, but it comforted him nonetheless. “I need a drink. Preferably something with exorbitant amounts of alcohol in it.”

“I’ll have a whiskey if you don’t mind.” The angel responded, too busy rubbing his temples to notice the look of wonderment that crossed Crowley’s face, “On the rocks.”

The demon nodded and set about getting drinks in the kitchen while Aziraphale took a quick tour of the flat. It was sparse, and colourless apart from the corridor lined with the richest verdant the angel had ever seen, and an office with a large scarlet and gold throne centred behind a desk. Cluttering the surface was a green spray bottle, some gloves and the tartan flask Aziraphale had gifted Crowley nearly fifty years ago. The sight made the angels heart start to race thinking of how close his friend- how close both of them had come to death's sweet embrace. He shut his eyes and waved a hand over the desk.

After he miracled it all into a cupboard for safekeeping, he moved on to the next room over, which contained a large bed with black satin sheets and a deep red duvet, but not much more than that, though he thought, nothing more was needed. Heading back towards the kitchen, he wondered if Crowley had a sofa he could sleep on. He didn’t need sleep but after all that he had been through the last few days, he longed to do something so human as to sleep.

“Angel?” He heard the call and walked into the living room, if you could call it that. As empty as the rest of the apartment, there was a single pedestal in the corner with some sort of stone artwork on top. Two winged beings tangled together, but that was all he could make out. There was a dark, winged armchair that Crowley had seated himself in, next to a tray of drinks which he had already begun helping himself too, as well as a fluffy looking, beige armchair that Aziraphale suspected had not existed before he’d walked into the flat.

He made himself comfortable in the chair clearly meant for him, picking up the glass Crowley had already filled for him and took a sip, letting the light burn of alcohol warm him from the inside as he glanced over the rim at the demon who seemed to be looking everywhere but at him. He took a few more sips, and then a gulp.

“What now?” Aziraphale asked gently, placing his empty cup back on the tray.

“Dunno.” Crowley shrugged, “Enjoy our remaining time left on earth. Or any plane of existence.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” Aziraphale prompted him at the same time as wondering if it was a question he wanted to be answered.

“Ngk. How am I supposed to know?” Crowley grumbled. He couldn’t quite look at the angel, not without risking all of the emotions rushing through him to show themselves. He was going to die, he was going to lose the only thing he had loved in his life and maybe he deserved that. But Zira didn’t deserve it. And he would do everything in his power to protect the only good thing he had ever known.

“Okay then,” Aziraphale tried again, “What do you want to do? These are the last days you’ll ever live. What do you want to do with them?” He asked innocently.

Crowley almost choked on his drink from the thoughts that popped in his head, “Nothing. Nothing in particular. Drink myself into oblivion.” He answered evasively.

“What about talking? Is there anything you’d like to say to me? I mean, we have known each other for a few millennia.” Aziraphale said, knowing how obvious he was being at this point before finding he no longer cared. He didn’t even care if Crowley felt the same way, though he suspected he did. He only knew that it had been too long and that if this was his last chance, to be honest with himself, and with the demon in front of him, now was the time to do it.

“It’s been nice knowing you?” Crowley responded weakly. The ice rattled in his glass as his hands began to shake so he quickly put the drink down on the tray and prayed the angel hadn’t noticed, “What else do you want me to say?”

“Anthony J. Crowley,” Aziraphale said, becoming impatient, “I want you to tell me how you feel.”

Crowley looked up sharply, his glasses almost unbalancing atop his nose, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He didn’t mean to be so defensive, but it comes naturally when you’ve been hiding a secret since the beginning of time itself. He stood up and made to walk out of the room but was quickly pulled back.

Aziraphale, standing too now, had grabbed his arm to stop him and was now stood only a few centimetres away, barely daring to breathe. “You do know.” The angel insisted, his voice becoming desperate, “You must. Because if you don’t-” His words cut off and he suddenly looked around, lost in the menacingly unfamiliar place that is hopelessness.

To the demon, however, the room had begun to fall away, and he was getting lost in an entirely different way that was neither menacing nor unfamiliar. It was simply the same way he felt every time he had looked for too long at the angel, at any point in time over the last six thousand years.

“Zira.” He said softly, the weight of the single word dragging him beneath the waves of his own desire. He was always so careful. So carefully in control. But for the first time in almost a hundred years, he could feel that control slipping. And this time, they were standing so much closer.

Then the angel was looking up at him, with those hopeful blue eyes that Crowley had always thought he recognised from another life. And his control was gone.

No one, not even God herself could have said who moved first but then their lips met and for a handful of seconds, or it could have been another six thousand years, everything was right again as the celestials lost themselves in a love they had been denying since before they even knew what love was.

Crowley gasped into this kiss as a drowning man gasps for air as he leaned into the warmth and smell of old books that suddenly surrounded them, his hands moving up to hold his angels face as if he could only keep him there, like that, for the rest of their lives, however long that may be. This was a bad idea. But it was a pretty good bad idea in his opinion.

This was where he had been going, whether sauntering or speeding, falling or rising, his whole life. He had always been going home. It wasn’t until Aziraphale reached up to tentatively place his hands on the demon's chest that sense rocketed around Crowley’s brain and then he was wrenching himself away, moving so quickly he tripped over his own feet and just barely kept himself standing.

Shocked by the unexpected rejection, Aziraphale composed his features to hide the hurt, to hide the way his heart was plummeting down further than even hell itself, “Um...”

“A-Angel.” Crowley stuttered, swallowing back tears, not that they would be seen behind his glasses. “I didn’t- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” He could still taste the angel on his lips, his body burned everywhere they had touched and his lungs ached in several ways he would never be able to explain. He tucked his shaking hands deep in his pockets to avoid the temptation to reach out. He’d ruined everything just like he knew he would, just like he always did. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why ever not?” Aziraphale asked breathlessly, “I rather wish you hadn’t stopped.”

“I said I’m sorry- Wait,” Crowley’s brain had short-circuited, not quite believing what he had heard, “You, but- What?” His words slammed to a halt as he repeated to himself what the angel had said.

“I-,” Aziraphale was blushing now, crimson colouring his neck and cheeks as he took a bold step closer to the demon who seemed to be frozen in shock, “I wish you hadn’t stopped. I was um, quite enjoying it. The kiss, that is.” If Crowley hadn’t been so utterly rigid with fear that this was just a colossal joke at his expense, he might have turned into a puddle worthy snake and slithered from the room by now, which he wasn’t sure would be any better than the circumstances he already found himself in. “Oh, do say something, dear boy.” The angel fretted, tugging at his sleeve.

“I-” Crowley didn’t know what to say so instead he busied himself with some glacially slow movement to break up his stillness. He adjusted his glasses as casually as he dared before dropping his hand again and clearing his throat, “Is this a joke, Angel? Because it isn’t a very funny one.”

Aziraphale let go of his arm, taking a step away as though he’d been punched. He looked away to hide the tears welling up in his clear blue eyes but the demon saw anyway. And his heart broke. This isn’t what he wanted.

“You think this is a joke? After everything we’ve been through.” The angel huffed, allowing a tear or two to fall as he crossed his arms over his chest, “Well then. If you want to laugh you can go right on ahead and I’ll stop making a fool of myself.” Crowley opened his mouth, to at least attempt to say something reassuring but the angel wasn’t done, “You were right. For someone intelligent, I can be so stupid. I should have never said anything. You’re a demon, you could never- But you were an angel once so I thought, maybe you could-”

Crowley guessed what the angel was trying to say. Maybe he could have refrained and not ruined everything between them. But he was a demon, full of desire and temptation and sin. But he couldn’t even defend himself because as long as he could remember, that’s exactly what had been dragging him tooth and claw back to the angel. Desire, temptation, sin. There was another word there too, made of four letters and heartbreak that he dare not acknowledge while the person he cared for most in the world stood in front of him with tear tracks down his face because of what he’d done. Because of what he was.

“You’re not stupid.” Was all he managed to get out as his heart cracked in a few more places.

“I am!” Aziraphale cried, falling back into the puffy armchair, his face in his hands, “I should have known you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

Ah, yes. All the angel wanted was friendship and as he had already established, that was now ruined. Because after six thousand years the demon couldn’t hold himself back for another 48 hours. But the angel had said he’d liked the kiss. Enjoyed it even. Crowley shook the thought from his head. It was probably just an angel thing, craving acts of love no matter who they were shared with.

Sighing, the demon knelt in front of the chair, moving slowly so as not to spook the weeping angel. He took off his glasses, reaching up to place them on the forgotten drinks tray before gently prising Aziraphale’s hands away from his face, looking up at him with large, unblinking yellow eyes.

“M’sorry I ruined everything.” Crowley murmured, placing a feather-light kiss to the angel's exposed wrist, he felt a shiver and leaned back an inch, “You deserve better than this. Better than the death sentence I brought you. Better than me. You deserve the world.”

“Oh, you idiotic demon.” Aziraphale sighed, twisting his hands. Crowley thought it was to break his hold and was already pulling back when the angel laced their fingers together, “Don’t you know? You are my world.”

For the second time that night, the demon froze, but this time he didn’t have his glasses to hide behind. He could feel the way his eyes shifted and changed, no longer humanoid, but full yellow snake eyes as though his body were screaming, ‘This can’t be right. I’m a demon. Why would he want me?’

But Aziraphale was speaking again, not taking heed at the immense silence that had befallen Crowley, “I understand that you might not be able to l-” His words shuddered to a halt before he tried again, “Love me as I l-love you.” Crowley’s heart rate sky-rocketed to the point where he was sure he would discorporate on the spot. “But if I’m going to die, I’d rather like to spend my last days with you. Even if we can’t-”

“How?”

“How what?” Aziraphale asked, flustered at the interruption.

“How can you love me? I’m-” A demon. Evil. Hatred and Greed and Wrath all rolled into one, the furthest thing you could get from heaven-

“You’re not evil.” Aziraphale said firmly, making him realise he’d spoken out loud, “You’re none of those things. Well, you’re a demon, but not the rest of them. And if it meant losing you, maybe... Maybe I don’t want heaven.”

“But you don’t want me. You can’t.” Crowley argued, struggling through the denial he had built around himself for centuries. He pulled his shaking hands from the angel's grasp, moving to stand again. Not to leave, just pace back and forth so fast he’d have worn a hole in the carpet if the floor hadn’t been concrete.

“I’d have to disagree because I do,” Aziraphale said as gently as he could.

“You can’t.” Crowley ground out, tears springing to his eyes, tears that he could no longer hide even if he’d wanted to, “You can’t love me.”

“Why not?” Aziraphale asked in exasperation.

“Because I love you!” The words left Crowley’s mouth before he could stop them and hung in the air between the two, waiting for someone to grasp onto them.

“That... That’s very confusing logic.” Aziraphale said eventually, but his face was glowing with fondness. The demon rolled his eyes to the heavens, still flat out refusing to believe anything that had been said in the last five minutes.

“Okay, maybe.” Crowley admitted, wanting nothing more than to believe him, “Maybe you’re telling the truth. Maybe you do love me-”

“There’s no ‘maybe’ about it.” The angel was the one to roll his eyes this time.

“-Which is even worse. If we love each other- If we have loved each other, for God knows how long-”

“I really don’t think she has much to do with it.”

“Then we only have a few days together because we’ve gone and wasted all the rest. It’s just- It’s not fair.” Crowley finished quietly, the realisation hitting him like a physical blow.

“Well, actually I’ve thought about this, and I’d have to say you’re wrong,” Aziraphale said smugly, exceedingly more comfortable with the situation than the demon. After all, had he not said it was what he suspected all along? Now that he was proven right, he found himself relaxing into the back of the armchair.

“Oh, really?” Crowley all but hissed, getting more annoyed the more relaxed the angel was, which was to say, a lot.

“Do shut up, you old serpent.” Aziraphale insisted, “Listen, if we had admitted... If we had realised sooner what this, what we could be then maybe we might have had even less time together.”

“I don’t get it,” Crowley said flatly. How could they have had less time together? They barely got to spend a handful of days together at a time, and the distance between those days could be anywhere from a few months to a few centuries.

“If we had been, you know, together,” Aziraphale was blushing again, the pink in his cheeks making him look even more like a cherub than he already did, “We would have had to hide it from our respective parties, and therefore would have probably seen even less of each other, lest we raise suspicion. But because there wasn’t anything untoward going on-”

“Untoward? Really, Angel?” Crowley couldn’t help the dig, his brow lifting up somewhere near his hairline.

“Anyway, like I was saying, because it wasn’t anything more than friendship, we didn’t try awfully hard to hide it, or even avoid it,” Aziraphale concluded, fingers steepled beneath his chin.

“Well,” Crowley murmured, letting the information sink in, “I’ll be damned.”

“You already are, love,” Aziraphale said with a cheeky grin.

“So what- What happens now, Angel?” He asked, ignoring the jab.

“Well, just to make things abundantly clear, I’d like to say that I love you,” Aziraphale said, rising slowly from his chair.

“Yes.” Crowley agreed, breathless.

“And you, you love me?” Aziraphale said it so it sounded like a question. But it was never a question to the demon.

“Yes.” He said more firmly this time, and the way his angel smiled up at him almost healed all the cracks embedded in his heart, “Of course, I love you.”

“Then I-” Aziraphale paused, cheeks aflame as he stood again, fingers worrying at the edge of his waistcoat, “I rather think we should try again.”

Crowley quirked his brow, trying not to let his smile shine through. He was still waiting for it to go pear-shaped. But it didn’t.

“Try what again, Angel?”

“Well,” Aziraphale cleared his throat unnecessarily, “Might I be so bold as to ask for another kiss? Of course, you don’t have to but it makes sense and I really did love-”

He never finished the sentence as Crowley had finally silenced all the other demons in his head that were telling him how much of a bad idea this was, and closed the distance between them in two long strides. He cupped the angel's face as he brought their lips together again, determined to prove them wrong, determined to prove himself wrong. Demons could love just as hard as angels, and for the record were exceptionally better at falling.

Aziraphale grinned into the kiss, letting out a happy noise of surprise, melting into his best friends arms and relishing in the love that he could feel radiating from every inch of Crowley’s being. The demon let his hands slide down, exploring the body he had longed to touch for thousands of years, soft to the very core, until his fingers were just lightly digging into the angel's hips, encouraging him closer still.

Six thousand years building up to this and they just couldn’t get enough of each other.

Aziraphale threw his arms around Crowley’s neck, using it as leverage to pull the demon against him whilst letting his fingers run wild through the auburn strands which elicited quiet sounds of pleasure from his friend. Though surely friend was the wrong word by now. The angel tugged harder and was pleased to hear the drawn-out moan that escaped Crowley’s lips, which he immediately tried to hide by burying his face in the angel's neck, teeth sinking lightly into pale skin. Overwhelmed by the sounds, the kisses on his neck, the way the arms of the demon wrapped around his waist and held him more lovingly than he had ever been held, it was too much and not enough. And it was beginning to have an effect on parts of his body that hadn’t been used in a while.

“Crowley, dear?” Aziraphale murmured, still threading his fingers through the demon's hair.

“Mhmm,” Was the soft reply he got, Crowley being too preoccupied with placing kisses along the line of his jaw.

“I uh, I rather think,” Aziraphale swallowed around the lump in his throat, “I rather think we should move this to the bedroom, don’t you?” Crowley, who had retreated an inch at the initial hesitation in the angel's voice, felt a shock of hormones run through his body.

“And then what?” He asked mischievously, pleased to see his angel so flustered.

“More kissing?” The angel answered unsure of the right words to use to express what he really wanted.

“And then what?” Crowley asked with a little more emphasis, wanting to hear it. Aziraphale hesitated, face suddenly serious as he thought of his answer.

“We enjoy the time we have.”

Crowley cocked his head, studying Aziraphale, “Are you sure, Angel?”

“More than. Are you, my dear?”

Crowley took his time answering, “You know, the first time I saw you all I could think was how beautiful you were.”

“On the wall, I remember.”

“No.” The demon whispered, “I saw you before that. I don’t know how but when I saw you in Eden, I already knew you. I have always known you. I recognised your soul before I learned to recognise my own reflection. I think I-” He didn’t know how to explain it, but somehow he’d always known, “I think I saw you in Heaven. I think I loved you even then.” Aziraphale tried to hold back the tears but they came anyway. He knew what Crowley said was true even if neither could remember how that knew it. His tears were soon kissed away as Crowley whispered, “It’s always been you, Angel.”

“Stop being so nice. It’s unnerving.” Aziraphale laughed, stroking a hand down the demons cheek.

Crowley quirked his brow, a grin spreading across his face as he grabbed the angels jacket and pushed him back a few steps until he was pressed firmly against the wall, “Is that better?”

Aziraphale didn’t have time to answer before Crowley’s lips slammed against his, and this kiss was nothing like the ones they had shared before. It was hot and fast, wanton moans and happy purrs, the demon's teeth biting his lip while the angel pulled his hair, barely an inch of their bodies left untouched. Crowley reached up, pushing Aziraphale’s coat off his shoulders, untying his little tartan bow-tie and making quick work of the buttons on first his waistcoat, and then his shirt.

“Bedroom.” Aziraphale gasped, but not before helping Crowley’s jacket to join his on the floor, “Now.” It was an order that wouldn’t be ignored.

If only Heaven and Hell could see them now. The thought made Crowley grin, grabbing Aziraphale’s hand and dragging the angel down to the bedroom, kicking his shoes off as he went.

Crowley hadn’t used the bedroom since the six-month nap he’d had sometime in the mid-50’s but if he was going to die in a few days, he was determined to get the most out of its use. And he didn’t plan on sleeping much.

“Well, just full of good ideas, aren’t you?” Aziraphale smirked. Crowley frowned, sure he hadn’t said that out loud. “I can read it all over your face, you serpent.” The angel laughed, “You think after six thousand years I can’t tell what you’re thinking? Especially when you lose some of that control you hold onto tighter than your own c-”

“That’s enough talking,” Crowley said blushing, starting another heated kiss that he had no intention of ending any time soon. Not when his hands were so busy pulling off clothes.

At least, he’d had no intention of stopping the kiss, not even to breathe (who needed air, amirite?) but then another idea popped into his head as his angel's deft fingers slid beneath his shirt, feeling curiously across the hard planes of his stomach.

“Hey, Angel?” He said hesitantly.

“I thought you said we’d done enough talking.” Aziraphale murmured, lips moving down to mouth along his collar bone.

“I had another idea.”

Those lips stilled before the angel whispered, “Do tell.”

“Do you remember when you discorporated and-”

Aziraphale let out a sudden huff, “If this is your way of turning me on, reliving recent trauma is not the way to go.”

“Just, just listen.” Crowley flushed, wishing for the millionth time in his life that he had been created with a little more tact, “When you showed up in the bar. When I thought you’d-” Pain flashed through his body and he decided to forget those memories completely, “When you were looking for a body to inhabit. Do you remember what you said?”

“I-I think so.” Aziraphale said, brows furrowed in concentration, “I said I was looking for a receptive body and that... That it was a pity I couldn’t inhabit yours. So?”

“All I’m saying is,” Crowley paused a moment before saying with a shrug, “Now’s your chance.”

“What do you- oh. Oh my.” Aziraphale said, eyes widening in realisation seconds before he burst out laughing, “My dear boy, there are far less complicated ways to ask for what you want.” He said with a cocky grin.

“Oh, shut up,” Crowley said, burning from the inside with embarrassment as he attempted to undo the angels pants.

“Never.” The angel growled, pushing Crowley away so he landed with a soft thump on the dark bed, “Take off your shirt. Wait,” The demon had gone first to remove the silver neck-tie but paused in his movements when the angel held the end of it, tugging him forward for a chaste kiss, “Leave this on, dear.” Red from ear to ear, the demon was unsure how he hadn’t already melted into a puddle as he did what he was told, yanking off his shirt but leaving the chain-link tie hanging cool against his overheated skin.

Instead of undressing in the traditional sense, Aziraphale just decided to miracle away the rest of his clothes, immensely enjoying the way those snake eyes bulged at the sudden loss of pants. Crowley lifted his hand, probably to miracle away his tight jeans but the angel stopped him again, crawling onto the bed, “May I?”

Crowley swallowed, nodding rapidly as his angel knelt over him, placing gentle kisses along the line of his hip bones, “Please.”

Aziraphale worked his jeans open much faster than his fumbling fingers would have been capable, placing another kiss at the base of his stomach before carefully pulling the pants off so they wouldn’t bunch and get stuck. Crowley tried to slow his heart rate with little to no success as his jeans hit the floor and the angel moved back up to place kisses along his thighs. It wasn’t long before his boxers were on the floor and Aziraphale’s gaze was roving over him hungrily, making Crowley glance away self-consciously.

“Mind hurrying it along, Angel?” He murmured, hands fidgeting in the sheets.

“I’ve waited a thousand years to have you, I don’t want to rush things.” Aziraphale murmured, leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek, “Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you and I’ll try to fix it.”

“I just-” Crowley wanted to disappear into a hole or be pounded through a wall. Or both. “I just don’t like being looked at.” He said, closing his eyes as he spoke, his bright yellow demon eyes, “You’re too good for me and maybe if you look hard enough you’ll see that.”

“You’re being ridiculous, dear boy.” Aziraphale sighed, the kind of sigh filled with sadness and regret, “I love you. I have loved you for a long time, and I will continue to love you long after we turn to dust. And when that dust becomes stars and a billion years pass I will love you just the same. When time ends and the universe dies, I will love you still. I’m never going to stop loving you, no matter who we are or what we become.”

“Hnng. Ngk.” Crowley had never known his brain to be so close to spontaneous combustion as the moment a very naked angel above him professed their undying love while simultaneously brushing against all sorts of sensitive areas, “Well fuck. You’re alright too, I guess.”

“Thank you, my dear, “Aziraphale said with the most angelic smile, “Now stop worrying about my staring. It’s only because you’re such a... Oh, what’s that lovely phrase the young people use? ‘A hot piece of ass’.”

“No, Angel, no. Please take that back.” Crowley begged, covering his blushing face with his hands, amusement and embarrassment warring inside of him.

“No, I don’t think I will,” Aziraphale said, nuzzling into the demon's neck as his own hands roamed across sensitive skin, feeling the shivers that ran off his lover in waves. Crowley purred and decided maybe slowing things down for a moment wasn’t all bad.

But after a few minutes of gentle caresses, he felt the angels lips begin wandering steadily downward. Aziraphale simply couldn’t resist, dragging him to the edge of the bed so he could kneel between the demons thighs, his mouth doing things so sinful that Crowley was putty in his hands.

The silence was broken only by the high keening moans spilling from the demon's lips, occasionally accompanied by a string of swearing as he threaded his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair, pulling as roughly as he dared to release the pent up pressure from having to keep his hips from thrusting upwards.

A flick of the angel's tongue had him arching off the bed as he choked on his own gasps, pleasure thrumming through his veins. Aziraphale didn’t flinch at the sudden movement or the increased strength with which Crowley gripped his curls. He lowered his head as far as he could, his nose brushing the demons own curls.

“Oh, fuck, Angel.” Crowley cried out, the top half of his body curled over the angel's ministrations as he tried desperately to get air into his lungs, “Zira, my wings.” He gasped, feeling the strain across his shoulders.

The angel glanced up, seeing a dark shimmer in the air behind Crowley’s back, just begging to be set free. He pulled his mouth off the demon, but kept his hand in place, stroking slowly, “Not this time, wait for me.” Crowley nodded, leaning back with a shaky groan as the shadow of his wings disappeared back into the dimension they were kept hidden in. Aziraphale grinned, dropping his head back down to wring as much pleasure out of his demon as was angelically possible.

Even with the wings folded away, Crowley could no longer hide from the edge that he was barreling towards, his entire body tensing as he got closer to a release like he’d never known.

“Angel-” He gasped out, an unnecessary warning as if Aziraphale didn’t know full well the state he was in. The only response he got this time was the angel reaching up to the hand that had been tangled in the sheets to interlace their fingers, giving an acknowledging squeeze. Crowley glanced down and saw his angel staring up at him, a smile in his eyes and his mouth more full than it would have ever been at the Ritz. The sight utterly broke Crowley.

“Ahh, ah- fuck!” He whined, his hips thrusting up as he fell, and fell, and fell, mouth open and panting, the only thing stopping him from slipping into oblivion was the hand gripping his as his blood was set on fire, his body splitting apart at the seams from the pleasure that racked his entire being. If he’d been in any way coherent, he might have worried about breaking Aziraphale’s hand with the strength he squeezed it, but at the time his mind and soul were floating somewhere in his version of heaven, only sauntering languidly back down to earth when the angel pulled off him, sitting back and enjoying the view with a decadent lick of his lips.

As only Angels could, Aziraphale felt the waves of love rippling off of Crowley as he lay back on the bed, breathing heavily as he weakly stroked patterns against the angel's wrist. He’d wondered once how he had missed the abundance of love that always radiated from the demon, before realising it simply wasn’t visible because of how all-encompassing it had been since the beginning of time. He had been looking- hoping for a change in feelings when there had never been a need of one.

“We really should’ve done that sooner, Angel.” Crowley sighed, running an unsteady hand through his hair, leaving strands sticking up in every direction, “Was that... That wasn’t your first time doing that, was it?” He asked curiously, pushing himself up on his elbows.

Aziraphale laughed, crawling back on the bed to place a gentle kiss on Crowley’s waiting lips, “Of course not, my dear. I hope you’re not disappointed...?”

“That’s about the opposite of what I’m feeling.” Crowley murmured, reaching one hand to cup the angels face as he leaned into another kiss, “May I? I’m curious, Angel, who exactly did teach you how to do such remarkable things?”

“I’ve had um, a few flings over the centuries.” Aziraphale admitted, turning pink, “But what you just experienced I’d have to put down to Mr Wilde. I met him in Paris. I was getting-”

“Crepes?” Crowley guessed with a grin and another lazy kiss, “Didn’t know you knew Oscar too.”

“You didn’t...?”

“Oh, no Angel. Not my type.” Crowley said, enjoying dipping into a past that was unmentionable before now. He moved then, throwing a leg over the angels hip and pushing him back into the pillows so he could straddle his lap, tilting his head down to deepen the kiss. He had the sudden realisation that he could taste himself on the angel's lips, the thought making him grind his hips down. Aziraphale groaned and pulled away, fingers gripping the demon's hips as he tried to catch his breath.

“What exactly is your type then?” He asked, distracting Crowley to give him another second to clear his suddenly very foggy head. The naked demon wiggled on top of him as he thought about his answer and Aziraphale bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood.

“I’m not sure.” Crowley said with a frown, “Men, women, neither. Both.” He shrugged, unconcerned, “I know it when I see it.” His eyes sparkled suddenly, and Aziraphale suspected if it had been darker, they would be glowing like lamps, “I saw it in you every time we met.” His voice was a purr now that ran chills down the angel's spine, “No matter how much I tried to ignore it, you always looked so... delectable.”

Aziraphale had lost all hope to ever regain his breath again.

“Who, who, who-” He cut himself off in hopes that he’d stop sounding like an owl and tried to sound more composed than he actually could be with Crowley’s lips now latched on to his neck, “Who else did you um, see?” The angel asked breathlessly.

Those snake eyes were back on him now, Crowley tilting his head with a devilish grin, “You won’t get jealous, will you?”

“Jealous? Why, why would I be jealous?” Aziraphale stuttered.

Crowley slipped a hand behind himself, reaching down at an angle that would be quite uncomfortable for a human, to wrap his fingers around the only part of the angel he hadn’t managed to touch yet. Aziraphale gave up all pretences of composure at this point.

“I don’t know.” Crowley purred, “Maybe because you won’t get to be the first one inside me.”

Aziraphale out right moaned then, grabbing the silver tie that still hung around the demon's neck and yanking him forward. Crowley lost his grip, falling against the angel in a sudden frenzy of teeth and tongues.

“I may not,” Aziraphale gasped at the marks Crowley was surely leaving on the pale skin where his shoulder met his neck, “I may not be the first to have you. But no matter what happens to us, if we die or if we live another six thousand years, you can bet on anything that I’ll be the last.”

“I fucking love you.” Crowley murmured, biting his way halfway down the angel's chest before he shuffled his hips backwards, “Now let me show you what I’m good at.”

The next time he wrapped his hand around the angel, it was slicked with lube that hadn’t been there a moment ago. Aziraphale moaned, throwing his head back into the fluffy satin pillows, knowing the hold he had on the demon's hips was sure to leave bruises.

Crowley moved to hover over the angel, his hand guiding beneath him. Before he could get what he wanted, Aziraphale’s grip tightened, stopping his movements.

“Don’t you have to, you know,” The pink flush in the angel's cheeks was back, his eyes focused on the space left between them, “Prepare or something. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Crowley wasn’t sure if he should laugh or just smile fondly down at the celestial beneath him. He settled somewhere in the middle with a crooked grin, “I’m not one of your humans, Angel. I’m a lot harder to break.”

“Is that a promise?” Aziraphale asked, meeting his gaze.

“No, it’s a challenge,” Crowley said, lowering himself onto the angel, both of them letting out breathless moans at the new sensations.

“You never answered my question.” Aziraphale pointed out, staying as still as he could to let the demon adjust. Crowley quirked a brow at him and he elaborated, “You never told me who you were with before.”

“Well, there was Freddie,” Crowley said, giving an experimental roll of his hips. He groaned and did it again.

“Freddie who? Did I know him?” Aziraphale asked, sighing contently as he let his fingers roam again over the demons smooth stomach. He was like an adonis come to life beneath his hands.

“You know the music in the Bentley-”

“The bebop?”

“No, Angel. The other music. Queen.” Crowley sighed, a laugh in his voice, “Freddie was the lead singer. We were friends, for a time.”

“Anyone else?”

“Would you like me to write you a list?” The demon asked, hands resting on Aziraphale’s chest as he tilted his head in that oh so familiar way, “It might take me a while to remember them all.”

“No, I- I’m sorry. I’m just curious.” Aziraphale bit his lip as the demon lifted his hips again, “It’s just interesting to me. Who you’ve been with- Oh, Jesus Christ!” He yelled out, all of his brain function cut off as Crowley slammed back down on him with a wicked grin.

“Yeah, he was one of them.” Crowley groaned, swaying his hips on top of the angel. It took Aziraphale a full five seconds to understand.

“Crowley, you never.” The angel gasped, covering his mouth when the demon nodded to him with closed eyes, “How blasphemous.”

“Mm, couldn’t help myself. He was a carpenter.” Crowley said, moaning as he rolled his hips at the perfect angle so the angel inside him was pressed against all the right nerves, “He was good with his hands.”

The angel started laughing beneath him and though it sounded like sunlight, Crowley was set on wringing different kinds of sounds from those sinful lips. The demon leveraged his hands on the angel's chest, rocking himself up and down at a speed humans would marvel at.

“Oh my- Crowley,” Aziraphale moaned, thrusting his hips upwards in time with the demon, his head thrown back in ecstasy, “You feel divine.” Perhaps an odd choice of words, but the most fitting he could think of. He could see a pale golden glow shining from beneath the demon's skin, and behind his eyes and he wondered if it was the hellfire that supposedly burned in the hearts of all demons, or if it was something else. Something older than even Hell.

“Yeah,” Crowley moaned, a drawn-out sound that set the angels blood on fire, “We definitely should’ve done this sooner.” He leaned down, rocking back on to the angel as he pressed their lips together, a tinge of desperation in his movements now. Aziraphale whispered sweet nothings into each kiss, hands reaching up to hold the demon's face with more care than he had ever been held.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Crowley hissed, slowing his movements as the air behind him began to buzz with energy, “I don’t think I can keep them in this time.” He groaned, hips stuttering in their rhythm as the waves threatened to break inside him. He hadn’t even realised how close he’d gotten until it was almost too late.

“I want to see them.” Aziraphale purred, reaching up to run a soothing hand down Crowley’s back, feeling the muscles tense and then relax under his touch. The angel's hand moved around to his chest, then his stomach, then lower. If Crowley hadn’t already been a mess before, he was now.

“Ah, Aziraphale...” Crowley moaned and it was the sweetest sound the angel had ever heard.

“I love you so much,” Aziraphale whispered, kissing Crowley’s shaking lips. The demon whined into the kiss, moving his hips harder and faster before suddenly wrenching away with a cry. At first, Aziraphale worried something was wrong until midnight wings burst from the demons back, nighttime and constellations spilling from the feathers as he fell apart on top of the angel. He continued to cry out as his release flooded through him, riding out the waves that threatened to drown him.

The angel miracled away any mess before Crowley had even come down from his high, wings flapping lazily behind him as he gazed at the stars from a pocket dimension that were now painted on his bedroom ceiling. Panting, Crowley let his head drop, dark hair falling in his eyes which he was struggling to keep open, especially with Aziraphale rubbing his thumbs in lazy circles on his thighs.

“You’re still hard.” The demon murmured with closed eyes, shifting his hips and gasping slightly, still sensitive from his most recent exposure to heaven.

“Not for long.” Aziraphale murmured, running a hand up to caress his lover's cheek, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Crowley, turned his head, pressing a kiss into the angel's palm.

“Mm, I’m more than okay. Do, do you want me to move?” He offered, not entirely sure if his body would listen to him anymore.

“I have a better idea,” Aziraphale said, taking a firm but gentle hold of the demon before flipping them both over, being most careful of the dark wings now spread out beneath them. Crowley smirked, wrapping his legs around the angels back and using his heels pull him in further, groaning as he did so. Now that he was closer, Aziraphale could pick out the constellations amongst the feathers as though he were actually looking at the night sky, but not one he recognised from this world.

He smiled, burying his face in Crowley’s neck, the soft feathers brushing against his cheek and the sound of his lover moaning so sweetly in his ear was enough to push him quickly over the edge, his body vibrating as wings of sunlight and promises burst forth and surrounded the two star-crossed lovers, the demon's wings followed suit to cocoon them in their feathery world of sun and stars.

They held each other for a long time, warm and whole and in love. It was more than either of them had ever dared to wish for. They could have stayed curled up in each other's arms for all eternity and that would be enough. It would be more than enough.

Aziraphale’s wings were the softest thing the demon had ever experienced, and he couldn’t help but press against one as he felt the waves of heat rolling off the feathers. He didn’t turn into a snake very often these days, but some habits die hard. Crowley’s wings, on the other hand, were decadently silky, like lustrous velvet brushing against the angel's cheek, his neck, along his back. He had always been a glutton for the finer things in life.

“M’sorry I’m so stupid.” The demon murmured after what could have been hours or days. Time didn’t hold much meaning anymore. Aziraphale seemed to be thinking along the same lines, placing a soft kiss to his temple.

“Don’t worry, my love,” Crowley curled languidly into the new pet name like a snake basking in the warm glow of the sun, “We can be stupid together.”

“Yes.” Crowley agreed wholeheartedly, “Together.”

Stupid, and in love, and together.

For now, at least.

~

Aziraphale did his best to wiggle out of the bed without disturbing the sleeping demon. As much as Crowley had tried to distract him with gentle nibbles along his jaw, he had seen how tired his lover was after the long day- long week they’d had.

He could still hear the way Crowley had murmured how completely not tired he was. Aziraphale had ordered him to close his eyes and after some disgruntled mumbling, the demon had humoured him, letting out a soft sigh from the fingers threading through his hair. Within two minutes Crowley was snoring softly into the angel's chest. It was funny what happened when you spent too much time on earth.

He turned back at the bedroom door to see the demon rolled over on his back, one wing still spread out beneath him, the other curled across his waist. The moon was bright behind the blinds, shining in thin lines across the bed as the stars on the ceiling winked in and out of sight, matching the ones twinkling amongst midnight feathers. Crowley was swimming in a sea of stars and it was the most beautiful thing Aziraphale had seen in over six thousand years.

The angel's wings folded back into their pocket dimension as he padded down the hall, a quick click of his fingers and most of his clothes were back. Everything but his jacket which he found in a crumpled heap on the living room floor. With an irritated sigh he picked it up, self-consciously looking around before another snap of his fingers and the jacket may as well have been hung on a coat hanger for the night. He slid it back on, patting his lapels down happily and glancing around the room, perhaps for a book to read.

Upon finding the room void of any reading materials, Aziraphale wandered to the stone statue he had noticed earlier to take a closer look. Running a gentle finger down one wing he wondered why Crowley had such artwork in his home, before he took a step away and slipped his hands in his pockets, fingers brushing against paper.

With a frown, he pulled out the charred prophecy he had completely forgotten, reading it over again to try and make sense of the words that had meant nothing to him a few hours ago. His eyes widened as it hit him and he went running back into the bedroom.

“Crowley!” He cried, forgetting in his excitement that he had been trying to keep quiet.

Crowley bolted upright, his yellow eyes wide with fear as those midnight wings flared behind him, “What the bloody hell, Angel? Is everything alright?”

“Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry, my love.” Aziraphale crooned, quickly sitting on the bed beside him resting a reassuring hand on his cheek, “I didn’t mean to frighten you, I was just excited.” He said, feeling the demon sag against him.

“Well if that’s all, I’m going back to sleep.” Crowley groaned, already falling back into the sheets, “Night, Zira.”

“No, no, wait. Look at this.” The angel insisted, handing over the piece of parchment, “I figured it out. I figured it all out. I know what we have to do.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes, taking the paper and Aziraphale watched his eyes skimming back and forth over the words. It took him only a few seconds longer than it had taken the angel before he looked up, hope shining in his eyes, “Is this-?

“It’s from Agnes Nutter. One last prophecy.” The angel beamed, stroking a hand down the side of his lover's cheek.

“Do you... Do you think we can pull it off?” Crowley asked cautiously as he stared back down at what could be their last chance at a life together.

“I am sure of one thing in this world,” Aziraphale said, “And it is you, my love. We can do this. We can be together, forever.” He said firmly as those yellow eyes met his and he wanted to cry from the emotion boiling up between them.

The demon had other ideas.

Throwing his arms around the angel's neck, the prophecy fluttered to the floor as they lost themselves in a kiss to end all kisses, the love burning inside each of them would put all the stars in the sky to shame. They kissed all night and when the morning sun began to shine through the bedroom window, they kissed some more.

They were two beings created to be together, whether they were to live together, die together or love together. Their story would end, happily or not, with the one they loved in their arms and that’s all anyone could ask for.

Because love is the saving grace in all of time and space, all of humanity and everything that came before. Love for yourself, your family, your partner, your job, love for animals and the earth, the sky and the open sea. Love makes the universe a better place to be, it gives life meaning and it gives us hope. Love is love is love is love is love. If that was the only thing the mighty angel Aziraphale and wily demon Crowley had learned from their time on earth, it would be worth it.

Even the armies of heaven and hell couldn’t stop them now.

God smiled. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

~

Aziraphale purred as he tried on Crowley’s body for size, stretching his long graceful hands in front of him and Crowley fidgeted with his favourite brocade waistcoat, “I thought you were taller. But it’s just because you’re so lanky.” The angel laughed, running a hand through his new auburn locks.

Crowley gave a noncommittal grunt, slouching with his hands inside his pockets until the angel gave him That look and he rolled his blue eyes, straightening with his hands held delicately behind his back.

Aziraphale blinked rapidly as his new eyes learned how to adjust to the light in the room. He noticed the colour of everything was just slightly off what it should be. “You look anxious.” He murmured, noting how much his lover kept fidgeting in the unfamiliar body.

“Thanks, it’s the anxiety.” Crowley replied, twisting the golden cufflinks, “I should probably be off then. Go check out the book shop. Or what’s left of it.” He saw the angel flinch, just barely but it was there, and immediately regretted his choice of words. “Sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” Aziraphale said, slipping into the demons snakeskin shoes, “I’m sorry you had to see it. I can’t imagine what you went through-”

“Let's... Let's not talk about that today, Angel.” Crowley murmured, stepping closer and taking the angels hands in his, “We have enough to worry about. After today we’ll have all the time in the world.” He said, lifting his hands to press a quick kiss to the back of each, “Now I really should be going.”

“Just one more thing,” Aziraphale said, waiting for the demon to look up at him before he leaned in for another kiss. It felt odd, for a moment. But honestly, they’d done odder.

“Stay safe, Angel.” Crowley murmured from lips that weren’t his, “I’ll see you at the park soon.” One last kiss and he was gone.

Aziraphale took a deep breath, going to stand in front of a mirror as he looked over the black suit he was wearing and tried not to miracle the ridiculously tight trousers into something more comfortable. The bookshop wasn’t far, Crowley would probably already be there, only popping in for a minute or two to assess the damages before heading to St James. It was now or never.

_This is a whole new way to be inside his body._

Aziraphale imagined how hard the demon would laugh if he’d heard that thought and let a sly grin creep over his newly borrowed features. This was going to be a piece of cake.

“It’s showtime.” The angel said to himself, grabbing a pair of sunglasses and heading for the door, a swagger in his step.

~

It was a shock for everyone, but most of all the two lovers that everything went spectacularly to plan, for once. Crowley was particularly impressed with the angel's bit about the rubber duck, whereas Aziraphale was simply disappointed he hadn’t been around to see Gabriel’s reaction to the hellfire breathing. Neither could quite decide whether it was the Ritz that prepared the best food they had ever tasted (even Crowley ate that night), or whether everything just tasted better when you were free. Or in love. Depends how cliche you’d like to think.

It was a night to remember. And then a week, a month, a year or two or three, or five.

It was hard to pinpoint the day they stopped looking over their shoulders, though it was probably around the same time they moved into the little cottage in South Downs with a library that took up most of the first floor and a large garden that was always in bloom. If you looked closely, amongst the flowers and vines, you might see the dilapidated little garden sign the angel had bought for Crowley as a joke. It simply read - EDEN.

Adam, the Antichrist, the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan and Lord of Darkness often called round with the Them in tow, filled with wild stories about the new games they had created. Newt and Anathema would visit too, sometimes Newt would even invite Shadwell & Madame Tracy who were living in their own, slightly more modest cottage two towns over.

It was domesticated bliss, and though Crowley quite enjoyed it just being the two of them, or sometimes their friends from Armageddidn’t, Aziraphale often became restless and found ways to nosey around the village, healing an illness here, miracle a winning lottery ticket there. It kept him mostly out of trouble.

One evening, the angel was late home but the demon didn’t worry, simply tending to the orchids that had no right growing in this climate, until it was too dark for even his eyes. He stood, cracking his back with a relieved sigh as he sauntered over to the bench beneath their apple tree. And then he waited.

It was some time just after eleven that the angel arrived, cursing at the loud creak the gate gave as it swung open before attempting to sneak up the garden path, unaware of the eyes watching him. The demon lifted a brow.

“I’m over here, Angel,” Crowley called, enjoying the way his husband jumped a foot in the air before spinning around with a guilty expression.

“Oh, my love, didn’t see you there.” Aziraphale blushed, altering his course to the apple tree, “Hope you didn’t stay up on my account.”

“I did.” Crowley told him with a wry smile because after all this time he still liked to watch him squirm, “But it’s a warm night and I enjoy watching the stars.”

Aziraphale had reached the bench by this point, tipping his head back to gaze at the night sky, “They are beautiful, aren’t they?”

Crowley continued to watch his husband, “Yes. They very much are.”

Aziraphale looked down to say something, realising the demon had been staring at him the whole time and couldn’t stop the blush from returning, “May I join you?”

The demon nodded, scooting over just enough so when the angel sat down he was pressed against his side, “So, what mischief did you get up to tonight?”

“Oh, not much.” Aziraphale murmured, ignoring the look his husband gave him, “Just taught a little lesson in romancing, that’s all.”

“You?” Crowley asked in disbelief, “Teach romancing?”

“I think four years of marriage grants me the ability to give some relationship advice-”

“Angel, it took you four thousand years to call me your friend, and another two thousand after that to finally admit your feelings.” Crowley pointed out with undisguised incredulity.

“Well, we’re immortal.” Aziraphale said as though it were a reasonable argument, “They don’t have as much time to figure these things out.”

Crowley snorted, wrapping his arm around the angel’s shoulders, “You’re ridiculous.”

“You can’t blame me for being a romantic.” Aziraphale said, leaning his head against the demon's shoulder, “Actually I’d blame you for that.” There was silence for a while. They had found over the years, they quite liked silence, almost as much as talking. It was a chance to just be, and not something they ever took for granted.

It was Crowley who eventually broke the quiet, brushing his long hair over his shoulder, “Are you happy, Angel?” He asked gently, gazing up at the stars.

“Of course I am, my love.” Aziraphale responded without hesitation, “I’m with you.” The demon smiled softly, running fingers through the curls at the back of the angel's neck, “And what about you? What do think of the life we now live?”

Crowley turned to him with a shrug and that crooked smile he so adored, “It’s ineffable.”

The angel grinned, meeting his husband in a kiss that once upon a time he had thought could end the world. Turns out, it hadn’t. And kissing the demon really was quite wonderful.

They stayed on the garden bench all night, watching stars and holding hands and simply loved.

Because they have loved each other since the beginning of time and will continue to love each other long after the universe turns to dust. And when that dust becomes stars and a billion more years pass they will love each other just the same. When time ends and the universe dies, they will love each other still.

But for now, this story must end.

It ends, as it was started, with an angel & a demon, in a garden.


End file.
